


Fools and kings

by roadsoftrial



Series: Cor Leonis Week 2018 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Heartbreak, M/M, Vampire AU, background regis/aulea, unrequited corgis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 17:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16815358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial/pseuds/roadsoftrial
Summary: It’s not because of her. He quite likes her, in fact, with her long, dark, wavy hair (as long and dark and wavy as his is short and clear and thick); with those deep blue eyes that can’t even compare with the bloodthirsty red of his own.In which Cor learns that there's no such thing as rationalising heartbreak.(Written for day 2 of Cor Leonis Week — Eyes)





	Fools and kings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small part of a Vampire/Werewolf AU I've been sort of working on!

_It’s not because of her,_ he keeps telling himself, over and over again, each time the buzzing in his ears stops being loud enough to distract him.

It’s not because of her. He quite likes her, in fact, with her long, dark, wavy hair (as long and dark and wavy as his is short and clear and thick); with those deep blue eyes that can’t even compare with the bloodthirsty red of his own; with that easy laugh and easier conversation, as likeable and pleasant as he is disagreeable and difficult. She is kind and nurturing and fit for a King in all the ways that he isn’t. She’s poise and warm smiles in all the ways that he’s chaos and impulse.

_It’s not a competition,_ he keeps reminding himself when the comparison spiral carries on for a bit too long. _It’s not a competition,_ yet all signs seem to indicate that he lost.

It’s not because of her. He’s glad that it’s her, really. She’s been nothing but kind to Cor, and it always makes him wonder if anyone bothered to tell her what she was stepping into (between), if it would change anything if she knew, if it would make her think twice before following that path, perhaps. Parts of him want to tell her, want to sit her down and grab her shoulders and tell her everything, tell her how her soon-to-be husband would still send for him when the castle was asleep mere weeks before he met her, how her soon-to-be husband would kiss Cor and feed off of him, then fuck him so thoroughly he had nothing left but Regis’ name on his lips. He wants to tell her all about the nearly 300 years that he’s spent at Regis’ side, of all the awful ways Regis had played him over the years, intentionally or not, of all the half-promises of a future together, of the way Regis has always given his leash just enough length that he wouldn’t notice he was even wearing a collar (until the day he’d removed leash and collar in one fell swoop, without a warning, without looking back, because he’d found someone more worthy of him, more beautiful and kind and nurturing than him, with longer, darker, wavier hair, with soft blue eyes that had nothing to do with the vicious crimson of his).

Parts of him want to knock her off the pedestal Regis put her on (the one Cor was made to long for, with offhand comments and vague promises that nurtured the feeble hope that choosing him had ever been in the cards), not to hurt her, but to show Regis that two can play his game, that he too can be vicious and spiteful, when nothing else can make Regis understand just how badly he’s hurting him.

_It’s not worth it,_ he tries to convince himself, despite what every single nerve and muscle in his body are screaming at him to do, _it’s not worth it, and the best thing to do is to move on._

(But it sounds so fake, so, so fake, so idealistic and tame, when all he wants to do is vomit his anger and spite all across the Lucis Caelum line, to stab Regis just as hard as he’s stabbed him, to make him understand just how cruel he is, just how vicious he can be, when the kingly raiment come off, when it’s only the two of them, alone with words that Cor had assumed meant enough that Regis couldn’t brush them off so carelessly, along with the past 300 years of their lives.)

It was foolish, he supposes, to nurture the naïve idea that Regis was any different from his father. That he wasn’t one to take away everything a man possesses, only to talk him into concluding that it’s for his own good, that he will need for nothing anyway, because they will be together to the end, because they are bound by a thread far thicker than the heartline he has no use for anymore.

_It’s not because of her, it’s because of him,_ he tells himself, and it makes things hurt less for a few seconds, until it doesn’t, until that realisation makes things even worse.

‘I’m leaving,’ Cor had said a few hours before the wedding.

‘I’ll see you off after the ceremony,’ Regis had responded with that smile of his that felt like a sharp dagger through his heart, and it had taken all of Cor’s resolve not to jump at his throat, right then and there.

(To persuade or to kill; the decision hadn’t been made just yet.)

Because there is no way Regis could be this dense, which could only mean he was doing it on purpose, that he had such little consideration for Cor’s feelings after all that he could afford to say things like this and not feel the slightest bit guilty about it.

‘I’m leaving in an hour,’ he’d corrected after closing his eyes and breathing slowly through his nose, because giving in to the rage slowly churning in the pit of his stomach would be admitting defeat. ‘I can’t say for how long,’ he’d added, hoping Regis would feel the same kind of betrayal he’d put Cor trough, hoping it would knock that damn smile off his goddamn face once and for all.

‘I suppose it can’t be helped,’ he’d said after a heavy silence that had hurt Cor as much as it’d made him ecstatic. ‘May I ask where you’re going?’

‘Galahd, your Majesty.’

_To die, hopefully._

‘I suppose it can’t be helped,’ he’d repeated, and his smile had faltered just as Cor had hoped it would, but the taste had been far more bitter than he’d expected, and he’d stormed out before Regis could finish bringing the flat of his thumb to Cor’s chapped lips, before the all too familiar sight of his eyes, so warm and inviting, still, could reel him back in, before he could muster any sort of half-assed goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ♥♥  
> (come hang out on [tumblr](http://thelegendarynoctgar.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/RoadsOfTrial)!


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